Salvation
by PerfectCosima
Summary: Creampuff Week Day #2 Welcome to the 21st Century


She attracted stares. Stares from guys and girls, in clothing that made her blush, so revealing, so masculine. Not that her current attire was a much better alternative. She hadn't seen herself in a looking glass for years; could barely remember what she looked like. Her white nightgown hung from her body, tattered but intact, and spattered with blood. She attracted stares, but recognized none of them, was blind, was lost, was alone.

People held out small boxes, and she saw pricks of light. This was familiar. She had seen this... seen this with Laura, with Mircalla's new companion. Mircalla? Carmilla? Everything she had ever known, had ever seen seemed to be a lie. And she had seen so much, living in the limbo, in the belly of the monster. She understood little, saw only what was connected directly to her target, saw Mirca- no, Carmilla, only in the dreams of others. She had been in Laura's so often; in the same way that the vampire, for that was the truth, more so than any name that could be ascribed to her, had been in her own centuries before, before she had learned the truth, or the lie, the story she had been told, whatever degree of honesty it had been told with. The story that she believed until she didn't, but once she doubted, it was already too late to change anything, she had already been killed, already been absorbed.

She knew where she was going, vaguely, having seen the path in the nightmares of the tiny girl, in the dream, in the thoughts. She knew that Laura had seen her too, which was new. She had always been farther back, never so strong. The monster had been famished. It was satisfied now. Too satisfied. It was alive and burning and plotting, and the vampire had been there. She knew that now, knew that the vampire had escaped, for she had used the same trail, the path to freedom marked by the dark haired shapeshifter.

And she was following the shapeshifter's path again, though this time it was different, less of a physical trail. No, it wasn't directly her path, but the one that she must have taken to return to Laura, for she would have returned to Laura just as she would have returned to Elle.

It was different, and yet the same, and yet so different, and her head was spinning as she approached the building, glancing nervously at the shiny steel of the door in contrast to the brick, the new contrasted with everything that she had known. It looked different in person; everything looked different in person. She was hesitantly reaching for the door handle when it suddenly opened from the other side, making her jump, falling backward into the bushes.

"Oh my God!"

Elle winced at the profanity as someone rushed forward to help her up.

"Are you okay?"

"I am... I am not hurt," she managed in her broken English, her voice rough from disuse. She flinched away from the hand that reached toward her for a moment before remembering herself, remembering that things had changed, that things like this must not be so taboo if a stranger would do them. She let herself be helped up onto her feet. It was a stranger with a stranger appearance than any she had seen; as close to naked as any of the others, but different. When she had looked down on people from afar, she had always differentiated by hair length. Their clothes were too similar to be of any indication. But somehow, this time, it seemed wrong. The label of boy didn't fit, nor girl. She grinned slightly to herself. Here she was wondering about appearance when the stranger was eyeing her with a look that reminded her that she was the foreigner.

"Where are you headed?" they asked her, with a guarded tone to their voice.

"To see..." Elle hesitated a second, glancing doubtfully up at the building for a moment as she thought of the correct answer, "Carmilla."

"Oh!" The stranger visibly relaxed. "That makes sense."

Elle wondered how something so nonsensical could make sense to anyone, but she was loath to disagree, especially seeing as the stranger seemed to know exactly where she needed to go.

"Do you want me to take you to her room?"

"Yes, please. If it would be no trouble, I would like that very much." She blushed through the statement, embarrassed by her voice, by her accent, by her English. Mircalla had known English. It had been exotic, interesting. She had tried to learn from her, but it had usually ended in laughter... sometimes more. She learned English by watching, by listening to dreams, by peeking into thoughts. The monster cast a wide net, and it was hers to fish in. Listening was different than speaking.

The stranger led the way into the building, face scrunching when they noticed Elle looking toward the staircase. "Come on, we'll just take the elevator. It will be quicker."

Elevator.

That was a new word. Elevate. 'To lift.'

She stepped back in shock when the wall slid open in front of her. "Is it... a... secret door? A secret room?"

The stranger laughed for a moment before realizing that Elle wasn't joking. "Um... no. It's not a secret. It's, um, it's a machine. It uses pulleys to lift you up. Haven't you ever seen one before?"

Elle blushed, glancing again toward the stairs. "No," she admitted hesitantly. "Where I am from, we have no... elevators? We use stairs."

"Where are you from?" the stranger asked.

Elle looked them up and down, wondering how much to say. "You do not want to know."

The stranger's eyebrows rose for a moment, but they shrugged it off. Carmilla's friends couldn't be expected to be any saner than her.

"May we take the stairs?" Elle asked finally.

Laughter. "Sure, Carmilla's friend. Just promise me that you'll give it a shot later, maybe when you come back downstairs." They headed away from the open elevator to the stairs, gesturing for Elle to follow them. They led them upstairs and to Carmilla and Laura's rooms, opening the door for her, an action that made her smile at their gallantry.

"Thank you," she murmured, stepping inside the room, where one girl looked up immediately, shock written on her face. The wrong girl. She moved forward hesitantly, clearing her throat. "Mircalla," she said softly, the volume unimportant as Carmilla's head snapped up. "Sie hat mich gerettet."


End file.
